The Night Is Cold
by AliuIce0814
Summary: From childhood, Faramir never ran to his parents for comfort. He ran to the one person he trusted: his older brother, Boromir. Three different nights in three different years: the more things change, the more they stay the same.
1. What Everyone Says

This is a mini-story, 319 words (despite FFN's claim, the body of the story is 319 words!), in which a young Boromir and Faramir have a nighttime chat. No slash, incest, etc.

Disclaimer: I am not old, male, or dead. I live in the United States, not the United Kingdom.

What Everyone Says

"Boromir?"

"Unnnn…"

"Boromir, please. Please wake up! Boromir, it is cold. Boromir!"

The ten-year-old reluctantly gave up on sleep and rolled over to face his brother. Five-year-old Faramir was peering at him anxiously from the side of the bed. "Faramir, for the love of Gondor! It cannot be dawn yet."

Faramir shook his head. "It isn't," he whispered. "Boromir, I'm frightened."

For the first time, Boromir took in how his small brother was shaking. "What happened, little soldier?" When Faramir did nothing but shiver, Boromir sighed and pulled back the coverlets. "Come here, Faramir. Tell me what you are so afraid of."

The smaller boy eagerly scrambled to his brother's side. "Boromir…I heard…" He bit his lip. When he spoke again, his voice was scarcely more than a whisper. "I heard the healers talking about Mama. They said terrible things, Boromir! They were saying that—that Mama is going to—I don't want Mama to die!"

Boromir's spine stiffened. "She will not," he said fiercely. "Mama will not die, do you hear me?"

"The healers said—"

Boromir swore violently. Faramir edged away and stared up at his brother with tear-filled eyes. "I didn't mean it, Boromir! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"Shh, Faramir, shh. I am the one who should be sorry. I'm not angry with you," the older boy said quickly. "Come here." Faramir obliged, and Boromir pulled him into a one-armed embrace. "I should never be angry with you for something that is not your fault. It's all right, little soldier."

"But Papa said—"

Boromir swore again. Faramir watched him warily, but Boromir shook his head. "When will you stop listening to what others say?"

"Never!"

The elder brother jumped at the vehemence in the small child's voice. "Why not?"

Faramir snuggled closer, until he was using Boromir's chest as a pillow. "Then," he whispered, "I would have to stop listening to you, too."


	2. Still Have You

This story is 259 words (again, no matter what this site has to say about the matter). Five years later, in the same room, on a similar night, two brothers remember…

Disclaimer: Not Tolkien. Sorry to disappoint.

Still Have You

"Boromir. Boromir!"

"Mmm…For Gondor's sake, Faramir! It is nowhere near the morning!"

"Boromir, please!" Faramir sighed. "I will do all of your writing assignments from the tutor for a week if you would just wake up!"

"I'm awake. I'm awake. There is no need for bribery." Boromir blinked at his ten-year-old brother. "Why are you up at this hour, idiot?"

"It is cold. I had a nightmare. Boromir, don't you know what tomorrow is?"

The elder brother squinted through the darkness for a moment. "Tomorrow?"

Faramir swung himself onto the mattress and held up one hand with the fingers spread apart. "Five years," he whispered.

"Five…oh, Faramir, no wonder you had nightmares. Here." The smaller boy crawled beneath the covers gratefully. Boromir wrapped both arms around his brother and rocked him back and forth in the dark silence.

"I miss her."

"As do I, little soldier. As do I."

Faramir noted the waver in his brother's newly deep voice and decided not to comment. "Boromir?"

"Little brother?"

"Do you think, if Mama had lived, Papa would…"

"No, little one. There is no point in wondering."

Faramir sighed and leaned his head on his brother's shoulder. "I know there isn't any point to it, but that never stops me from wondering."

"Well, then." Boromir shut his eyes, briefly, as if scaring away tears. "Yes, I wonder what might have been. I wonder all the time."

Both of them sighed in unison. Boromir chuckled suddenly and pulled Faramir closer. "Little one?"

"What is it?"

"I am glad I still have you."


	3. Come Tomorrow

301 words, despite FanFiction's erroneous claims. Five more years have passed, and once again, Faramir cannot sleep.

Disclaimer: I'm not old and gray, nor is my surname Tolkien.

Come Tomorrow

"Boromir?"

The heap of blankets on the bed seemed to heave a sigh. "Can it not wait until morning, little soldier?"

"Boromir…"

"All right. I'm awake; you've done your duty. Why is it that _you_ always wake _me_?"

Faramir had the consideration to blush. "I suppose," he said diplomatically, "it must be colder in my room than in yours."

Boromir rolled his eyes, though he was not entirely sure his brother could see it through the gloom. "Come here."

"Brr! Thank you!"

"Just have the heart not to steal all the blankets, idiot! Now, do you care to explain why you woke me, yet again, at a most unholy hour?"

Faramir gave a snuffling sigh. He might have said something, but whatever words were spoken were muffled by the covers.

"Come again?"

"I will miss you," said Faramir faintly, "come tomorrow."

His older brother's breath came out in a _woosh! _"Soldier…"

"I know it is foolish," the younger of the two said quickly. "You will not be gone for long, and Father needs you to defend Osgiliath."

Boromir brought one hand to ruffle Faramir's hair. "Three weeks is a long time, Faramir, especially when it could be three weeks of war. I will miss you, little one. I will miss watching you duel the diplomats with your words!"

"I will miss your jokes," Faramir said.

"Even the one with—"

"Not all of your jokes!"

"I wondered." Boromir paused thoughtfully. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

The younger brother's brow furrowed. "But the servants might think—"

"Damn what the servants think!" Boromir said fiercely. "I want to keep my brother with me as long as possible!"

"All right," Faramir conceded. His eyelashes were already fluttering shut as he snuggled into his brother's familiar warmth. "Someone should keep an eye on you…"


	4. Speechless

347 words. FanFiction is misbehaving and claiming otherwise.

Disclaimer: Not old, not male, not dead…no, I'm most definitely not the Professor Tolkien.

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Speechless

"Boromir, wake up."

"Nnngh…"

"Rise, all ye sleepers!"

"It surely is too early for sarcasm, little brother."

"Not if the sarcasm makes you shift your great arse. Budge. It's cold."

The older brother grudgingly obliged. "I thought," he grumbled as Faramir dived beneath the covers, "you had outgrown this."

"Nay," the younger replied. "Your room is still warmer than mine." Boromir rolled his eyes but held his tongue.

"When do you suppose the war will end?"

The question startled Boromir, who had begun to doze. It took him a long moment to gather his thoughts. In the end, the only answer he could form was "When the king returns to his throne."

"How soon will that be, do you think?"

"It was meant as cynicism, little soldier. There will never be a king on the throne of Gondor, at least not in my lifetime."

Faramir fell silent. Boromir was once again sinking into slumber when his brother whispered, "Will there be no king because the line is gone for good, or because you and Father would stand in his way?"

"Faramir! What kind of question is that?"

Even in the midnight gloom, Boromir could see his sibling's pensive shrug. "I have noticed how well you lead your men. They would follow you, even to certain death. How easily could you relinquish that? When—not _if_, Boromir, _when_—the king returns, you won't have nearly as much power over the people. Would you really be able to give up your command for a stranger? Do you have the willpower to leave your men?"

"Faramir! That's enough!" Faramir's eyes grew as wide as saucepans when he found his brother's open palm a breath away from his face. Boromir seemed just as stunned. "Faramir…little soldier…I didn't mean…"

"I know." This first response sounded particularly petulant. Faramir sighed and tried again. "I know you would never mean to hurt me." The hooded eyes flickered up to meet his brother's reluctant gaze. "You would never mean to hurt Gondor, either, but what if you do anyway?"

Once again, Boromir held his tongue.


	5. Trickster

323 words, I swear it. Five more years have passed; Faramir is twenty-five and Boromir is thirty. They grew up faster than I expected.

Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien. No surprise there.

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Trickster

"Faramir?"

"Huh. What? Is it morning?"

"Not yet."

"Then why…Boromir, where am I?"

Boromir ran a hand through his hair worriedly and sighed. "You are in the Houses of Healing, little soldier."

Faramir jerked upright; then, with a yelp of pain, he settled back into the numerous pillows. "What happened?"

His older brother's eyes were the only pinpricks of light in the deep, cold darkness. Boromir chose his words carefully. "There was a terrible fire at your Rangers' camp. Your horse spooked. You fell."

"Ah." Faramir paused to catch his breath. "That, one might suppose, is why my skull feels as though it has split in two?"

The attempt at humor fell flat as the older man's face twisted. "Faramir…By Gondor, it almost did. When they brought you here, I thought—I thought—"

"Boromir? Will you grant me a favor?"

"Yes, little soldier. Always."

"Boromir, it is frigid in here."

The elder brother attempted to rescind his promise. "No. I am not crawling under the coverlets with you. You are far too old for this foolishness. Besides, your injuries—"

"Now you sound like Father, not like my brother."

"For Gondor's sake! I am nothing like him!"

Faramir's eyes narrowed. "We are not doing anything improper. We are brothers, Boromir. It seems the only way I can see you is to do myself an injury! I missed you. I am freezing here. I am sure the healers will understand the healing power of body heat.

"Anyway," he added pensively, "I don't think I shall fall asleep unless I know you cannot run away and leave me alone here."

A breath of a moment later, Boromir found himself curled under the thick blankets with his younger sibling drifting off against his chest. "You blackmailed me, little brother. You are a trickster."

"As long as you do not leave me," the wounded Ithilien Ranger said faintly, "I do not care whether I resort to blackmail."

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I don't enjoy using my stories as advertisement, but if you can, please donate to a legit organization, such as the American Red Cross, for relief in Haiti.


	6. Nuisance

ACK! 'TIS THE LITTLE FIC THAT COULD! I beg your patience and understanding. This chapter is nearly one hundred words over my goal (420, as opposed to the 320 I usually aim for).

Disclaimer: I am still not old, dead, or Tolkien.

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The Nuisance's Gift

"Boromir?"

"Aye, little brother?"

"Hmm. For once, you are not complaining about the lateness of the hour! Truly, it is a miracle that you are not tetchy about anything of the moment!"

"I do not complain that much, you imp!"

Faramir's eyes danced with merriment. "See, brother?" he teased. "There you go again!"

"Oh! A terror, that's what you are. You have been a nuisance since the day that you were born." Boromir rolled his eyes at the shivering figure at the foot of his bed.

"Come here. You look as though you are freezing to death."

As the younger of the two dived underneath the blankets, Boromir had to quickly bite back a yelp. "Faramir! How in Gondor did you get this cold?"

Faramir, for his part, shuddered and buried his face in the crook of his brother's neck. "Hrm_hmmm_hm_hmmm_immmm_rrmm_."

"Pardon?"

"The fire," said the shivering Captain, "went out in my room!"

"The fire went out in your room." When Faramir nodded, Boromir sighed and resisted the urge to literally knock sense into his younger counterpart. "Faramir, little _idiot, _you are an Ithilien Ranger. One would suppose that you might be able to restart a fire if you had the need."

"Hmmph. I would rather come bother you."

Boromir shook his head and pulled his brother closer. "Are we not a little old for this?"

"You ask this every time I use you as a major heat source."

Boromir ruffled Faramir's locks. "I know, little soldier. I feel less guilty if I check."

The younger brother twisted in the elder's arms until they were face-to-face. "Father, he is a part of that guilt." When Boromir nodded reluctantly, Faramir continued, "This is why I so love being in Ithilien, you know. Here, I can always feel him watching, just waiting for my slightest misstep. It is as though I am always being shadowed by some fierce predator."

"Faramir—"

"I know that you must defend him, Boromir. It is your duty, as the eldest, to defend Father. Still…in Ithilien…I am not judged by someone else's standards of who I ought to be. In Ithilien, my courage is not doubted. In Ithilien, I am none but the Easterlings' prey, and them I can dispatch or dissuade."

Boromir held his brother tighter yet. "Listen to me, Faramir, Captain of Gondor. Of all the brave men I have ever known, you are the most courageous. You see into the hearts of men and act on conscience. You only ever hesitate out of compassion. That is no crime; that is a gift, little brother. Keep it. Do not lose it.

"Oh, Faramir?"

"Yes, Boromir?"

"You are my only brother. My first duty is not to Father. My first duty has always been to you."


	7. Return For Me, Brother

The second-to-last chapter, 406 words in length, set directly after Denethor tells Boromir that he must go to the Council of Elrond (_Two Towers_ Special Extended Edition).

Disclaimer: I am still not old (obviously) or dead (thankfully), nor am I male.

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Return For Me, Brother

"For Gondor's sake, Faramir! Do not blow this out of proportion!"

"Whose sake?" The slighter of the two men whirled to face his brother. "Whose sake are you leaving for, Boromir?"

"For Gondor!"

"But for you, Gondor would have fallen to her enemies a score of years ago! No, brother mine, you are being selfish!"

Boromir's eyes flashed. "Nay, brother, it is you who is selfish. You begged for glory, Faramir. You wished for the chance to be a hero. Well, your wish has been granted: Gondor will be left in your precarious keeping whilst I am sent on a fool's errand!"

The older man was expecting the punch, almost hoping that his brother's fist would smash into his jaw and alleviate some of the rage that had set the air crackling. Instead, Faramir's hand froze a breath away from Boromir's chin.

"No." Faramir collapsed onto his bed and buried his face in his hands. "Why, Boromir? Why Rivendell? Why now?"

"Isildur's Bane has been found."

"My dream…_our_ dream influenced this madness?"

Boromir nodded. "Partially. Father wishes me to…go to a council in Rivendell and ensure things sway in Gondor's favor."

Faramir's eyes flickered. "Our country's favor, or Father's favor?"

"No," Boromir replied. "It is both."

The younger brother sighed and leaned his head against his sibling's shoulder. "What I do not understand is why it is _you_ that must leave. You are the Captain; I am the diplomat."

"I need your support, Faramir. Little soldier, please, I will not leave unless you order me. Tell me I must go."

Faramir swallowed. "You have to leave, Boromir. You have to leave for Gondor's sake."

Boromir shook his head. "Believe it, my little Captain. Believe that I must leave. It is for our people's sake, whatever else you may think."

"When you are gone, for weeks, months, or years," the younger Captain whispered, "what will become of our Gondor without you? We need your strength, Boromir."

"Gondor needs your wisdom, brother. You have always been the better Captain between us."

Faramir buried his face in his brother's shirt. "I am only a good Captain because I have my brother as an example."

When the fire had burnt low and the two brothers were still clinging desperately to each other, Boromir whispered, "Tell me again, little soldier. Tell me why I must leave."

"You have to leave for Gondor, my brother, my Captain…but you must return for me."


	8. Epilogue: Just Like You

(Please see the Author's Note at the end.)

Disclaimer: By now you all should realize that I am not Tolkien!

Oh, 369 words.

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Just Like You (Epilogue)

"Papa? Papa! Papa, please wake up!"

Faramir reluctantly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His five-year-old son was gazing at him imploringly from the side of his parents' bed. "What are you doing out of bed at this hour, my little soldier?"

"It is cold in my room, and it is so dark. I had nightmares in there, Papa," the little boy whispered. Faramir frowned.

"You usually run to your mama when you're frightened, little one."

"She was with the _baby_. He was crying again!"

A knowing light sprang to the father's eyes. "Are you, perhaps, a bit jealous?" When his son shuffled his feet, Faramir chuckled and sat him on his knee. "I suppose it is to be expected, but do you know a secret?"

The boy shook his curls. "Uh-uh, Papa. Are you going to tell me?"

"When you grow older," Faramir murmured in his son's ear, "your little brother will try to copy you in every way. He will want to be you, you know. He will love you and look up to you and believe you are the best man this earth has to offer."

"How do you know, Papa? Were you the older brother?"

"Nay, little one. I was the younger of two brothers."

The boy brightened. "Tell me about your brother!" When his father chuckled and shook his head, he begged, "Please, Papa? Tell me a nighttime story. Tell me about your big brother again. Maybe he will hear you and come and chase away the bogey-man from my closet!"

Faramir laughed again. "All right, you imp! I will tell you a tale for sweet dreams. Though, after all the times you have heard it, you should know the story by heart.

"Once there was a Captain of Gondor—"

"A great Captain of Men!"

"Yes, a great Captain among Men, a defender of innocents, a man of quality, a remarkable swordsman, and a loving brother to the end. His name was Boromir."

The boy twisted in his father's arms and grinned. "Just like me?"

Faramir kissed his little Boromir. "Yes," he said as tears made his eyes glimmer in the candlelight. "Yes, my sweet Boromir, just like you."

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Author's Note: An enormous thank-you is deserved by all who have read or reviewed this story. I'm glad you've enjoyed it.

_To Abigail, my sister, protector…well, _my_ Boromir_


End file.
